Home
by pinkpower
Summary: . . . i s     w h e r e     t h e     h e a r t     i s


**A/N: So, I wanted to try writing the Arnold/Helga break-up scene that takes prior to 'the Patakis,' simply because I'm bored stiff and just finished watching an episode of Pokemon that always makes me bawl like a baby. (Lol, can you guess which one I was watching? :P) More over, this was really my second attempt at getting to know the characters through their actions and emotions—particularly on what's in-character versus how I see them in my head. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, dang it!**

They had whispered their half-hearted farewells to their broken relationship on a crisp autumn morning, on a wooden bench in the center of the park. Although, the morning was probably one of the most beautiful Arnold Shortman had ever seen—with the sun's warm rays clinging to his skin, and the flock of sparrows merrily tweeting their song—it was also the dreariest.

In the fifth grade, Arnold had gone on the most exciting adventure of his young life, and with the help of Gerald and Helga, he had finally been reunited with his long-lost parents. It was one of the greatest moments of all time—just being squeezed in their arms again—and he owed a lot of his triumph to everyone who assisted him along the way. . . Most especially, Helga, whom had continuously surprised him with her encouraging words and selfless deed. Arnold would love her until the end of time for everything she did.

But that had been nearly three years ago, and it was finally time for Miles and Stella to return to their home in San Lorenzo with their precious son. Arnold, of course, was ecstatic to go off with his parents; he would never let them out of his sight ever again. On the other hand, this also meant saying goodbye to everyone in Hillwood—his wonderful grandparents, his eccentric housemates, his best friend, and Helga, his now ex-girlfriend.

"Are you mad at me?" Arnold queried in a sullen tone, as Helga slumped against the back of the bench and rested her head on his shoulder.

She sighed, fighting back sobs that were busy welling in the pit of her chest. "No, Football Head, I'm not." Helga just wasn't able to muster up the hostility necessary to be angry with her favorite person in the world, and what right did she have to be upset at Arnold anyway?

As usual, Arnold was doing the right thing by breaking things off with Helga. Plus, it was a mutual agreement the both came to—long distance relationships never worked out, and they were better off not putting themselves through that mess.

_It's all for the best, _Arnold mused silently. The unspoken words felt so hollow and fake, but they had to be true, right? He loved Helga more than Superman loved Lois Lane, and that was enough to set her free. . . to let her fall out of love with him. She could date whomever she pleased, without having to worry if she would be backstabbing Arnold in the process. That vision alone—of Helga and a blank-faced guy holding each other close—made Arnold's stomach churn.

**[insert knife to heart]**

"I want you to be happy in San Lorenzo, without anything holding you back." Helga stood up, with her arms crossed over her chest. Arnold got up as well, and buried his hands deep in pockets.

_No, _he should have said, but the words were swelling around his tongue, _it's not like that. I can't be selfish and ask you to wait for me._

Like the tongue-tied buffoon Arnold was proving himself to be, he nodded and said, "I'll miss you, Helga. Will you—will you write to me at least?"

Helga fixated her cerulean eyes on the ground, studying the rich green color of the grass, and contemplated her answer. Would she write to him? _Could she_ find the courage to pick up a pencil and write down word after word on a flimsy piece of paper? What if her tears ruined the page?

"Maybe," Helga retorted in a murmur, after an endless moment of keeping Arnold in suspense, "maybe not."

"Oh, okay," Arnold replied, skillfully hiding the hurt threatening to spill from his green irises. At least Helga wasn't offering a false promise. "Well, can I ask you for a favor?"

She glanced up at him. "Yes, Arnold. _Anything_."

_Come with me, Helga._

"Tomorrow. . . When I leave, don't be there," Arnold barely choked out. That was the exact opposite of what he wanted to say.

Helga's eyes widened and she was sure that Arnold heard her heart shattered to the ground. "Wh-what?"

"It's just that I really need _this_ to be our goodbye. If you come tomorrow, I couldn't help myself from looking back and I'm not sure if I can handle that. I have to go, but Helga, I _do_ lo-"

"Just shut your yap, Arnoldo." Helga couldn't take it anymore—it felt as if somebody had just knocked all the wind from her lungs. "I understand, okay?" She couldn't let herself unravel in front of Arnold, and so she began to run—as fast as her feet could carry her.

"Helga!" Arnold shouted after her in desperation.

What was he doing, just standing there? Why wasn't he going after Helga?—_sigh_—Then again, what good would it have done anyway? Nothing would change the fact he would be more than a thousand miles away from home.

"Goodbye!" Helga yelled back at Arnold, and then softer as she kept running, "Goodbye, Arnold, I love you, too."

"Goodbye, Helga. . .," Arnold sighed in an inaudible voice, knowing very well Helga wouldn't hear him.

Yet another three years had gone by since that day. Arnold had to smile just a little bit at the memory. Not because he enjoyed the image of his first and only love rushing away from him like a contagious disease, but because Arnold was no longer that idiotic thirteen year-old boy. Nope. He was a young man now, and was finally ready to risk his whole heart on the line.

_Dear Helga,_

_I have written to you as often as possible over the years, without so much as a word in return. I can't say I blame you after the way things ended between us, but I can't keep driving myself crazy wondering if you'll ever bother to write me back. I simply can't go on this way, no matter how much I still care about you._

_This is my final letter to you._

_-Arnold_

**A/N: So, what do you think? Was Arnold too cold with his request, or in his letter? Was Helga too gentle in her responses to Arnold? I really don't know. I was trying to keep them in-character without them being the exact same kids they are on the show. I wanted to go with what their slightly older selves would do… I'm not sure if it worked out or not. Anyway, if you liked, leave a review. If you didn't… trust me, I understand. Either way, the letter is definitely not the stopping point of the fic. **


End file.
